


Next Level Avengers

by DeanisBatman



Category: Jumanji (1995), Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jumanji Fusion, Alternate Universe - Video Game World, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, No Wanda because reasons (shrug), POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Protective Bucky Barnes, Slow Burn, Timeline What Timeline, on all shipper counts, there will be pain, there will be shipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:55:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanisBatman/pseuds/DeanisBatman
Summary: “That sounds great!” Steve said, clapping his hands together. “I’ve been meaning to take Peter up on his game night invitations. We can make it a team bonding thing.”Tony tried to hide a grimace. “Sounds good, Spangles. See you guys there. Common room in, uh," he glanced at his watch, “thirty minutes.”“What’s the game called?” Clint asked.Tony glanced over his shoulder as he walked out the kitchen door. “Jumanji.”ORThe Jumanji crossover literally no one asked for. **throws confetti in the air**The team will need to work together if they want to survive the trials of the game. Relationships will be tested, emotions will be wrought, and romance will be ignited. Buckle up, folks, you're in for a hell of a ride.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 17
Kudos: 32





	1. A Little Game Never Hurt Anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And this is how it all starts. . .

Bucky closed the door to his therapist’s office and leaned against it for a brief moment, head falling back silently against the wood. He could hear her writing down notes, no doubt extrapolating how far along the road to recovery this latest B.A.R.F. session had gotten him. One step forward, four steps back, seemed to be the current trend. The intrusive _scritch, scritch_ of her pen on paper, dug into his brain. 

Sighing, he pushed away from the door and started towards the main building of the compound. Today had been another intense B.A.R.F. memory filled with things he would rather forget, but thanks to his eidetic memory, nothing short of another meeting with The Chair would get rid of it. He shuddered at thoughts of that torture device, phantom electricity shooting through his veins. Bucky’s heart stuttered for a moment in panic. He breathed in deep, held it for a four-count, and then released it slowly. Just the way his therapist had taught him. It helped, but his trigger finger still drummed a beat on his jeaned thigh, nervous energy needing a way out. 

Today he had watched the moment James Buchanan Barnes realized he was never getting away. The second in time when the whole world closed in and exploded at the same time creating an echoing, empty expanse of nothingness. Bucky thinks it was also the same moment at the Winter Soldier sparked into being. It had taken six times through the memory for him to be able to change the outcome. 

His steps faltered momentarily before picking back up. Bucky ran a hand through his long hair, scraping his nails a little too hard across the skin. The pain was sharp and created a focus to keep him in the present. 

“FRIDAY, doll, where is everyone?” Bucky asked the moment he walked through the door of the main building. His voice was raw from talking through the tangle of emotions his memory had brought to the surface. 

“Boss, Colonel Rhodes, and Mr. Wilson are in the kitchen. Mr. Rogers, Mr. Lang, Ms. Romanoff, and Mr. Barton are all in the training gym. Mr. Lang is preparing to leave for the weekend. The rest appear to be finishing up, and they are talking about going to the kitchen as well for a post-workout snack,” the AI chirped in her lilting Irish accent. 

Bucky’s stomach rumbled, and he altered his course, entering the nearest elevator. “Guess I’m heading there too,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. 

He did not particularly want to be around other people, but the super-soldier knew from experience that if he avoided them, it would be twice as hard to reintegrate into the group in a few days. No, Bucky would need to push through the anxiety and triggers at least for a little while. A quick sandwich was enough to tide him over until dinner proper. 

Tony and Rhodes gave matching nods of greeting when he entered the kitchen, and Sam handed over a plate of grilled cheese and tomato soup. 

“It’ll only take a few minutes to make another, and you look like you need it more,” Sam said when Bucky tried to push the plate back. 

Giving in, Bucky took a seat at the table. He took a seat with sightlines for all the exits and his back to the only wall not made of floor to ceiling windows. The food smelled amazing, and that, combined with the kindness Sam had shown by giving it to him, was enough to make a knot form in his throat. B.A.R.F. days always left him feeling over-emotional and off-kilter. Today was no different. 

He took a bite out of the grilled cheese and moaned, eyes falling closed as he enjoyed the unexpected flavors. Sam had done something different, but it made the sandwich taste divine. 

“You like that, huh?” Sam asked from where he was cooking up his own. There was a smile in his voice. “Sourdough bread, shredded Manchego, and mayonnaise. Best damn grilled cheese in the states.”

Bucky moaned again in agreement. He dipped a corner of it into the soup, letting the hot liquid soak into the bread for a moment before taking a bite. 

“I’m never gonna be able to eat another one of Stevie’s Kraft Singles and wheat ever again,” Bucky said. 

Sam chuckled, flipping his sandwich in the heated pan. Tony was pointedly ignoring their back and forth, his nose glued to the Starkpad in his hand. Rhodes was eyeing the cheesy meal with barely concealed desire, but he kept on silently digging through his bowl of food. There had been an unease truce between the Rogues and the rest of the Avengers since their return. Bucky tried not to let the tension get to him.

“Smells good, Sam,” Steve said when he and the other Rogues wandered into the kitchen a moment later. 

“You’re welcome to make your own,” Sam said with a laugh. He nodded towards where the ingredients were still stacked on the counter. “I’ve waited long enough for this sweet goodness.” 

Bucky scooted his chair over to make room for Sam, which left him sitting much closer to Tony. The genius glanced up from his work for a moment, gave a sort of half nod at Bucky, and then went back to work, fingers flying over the delicate glass. Steve chugged half a gallon of water before starting to make his sandwich. 

“How was your session today, Buck?” Steve asked without looking up from where he was slathering butter on one side of the bread. 

Everyone was crowding too close, and suddenly the kitchen felt smaller. Bucky pushed back the urge to bolt. He knew how to work through this - had done on multiple occasions. Instead of answering right away, he took in a steady breath, held it for several seconds, and released it slowly. Natasha shot him a knowing look from where she was devouring a pear, but she did not say anything. Beside him, Tony kept glancing up, side-eye and furtive. 

“It was fine?” Bucky finally answered. His voice was calm and steady, but it came out sounding more like a question than a statement. 

“Something wrong with B.A.R.F.?” Tony asked, putting down the Starkpad and turned all his attention on the super-soldier. “I can look at the configurations if you need-” 

“No!” Bucky barked out the word, pushing back so that his chair squeaked as it grated across the floor. Everyone was staring now, and he felt his skin heat up in a blush. They were all just worried. He could practically feel the concern in the air like a thick blanket threatening to smother him. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” he bit out between clenched teeth. 

So much for the breathing exercises. When Bucky finally looked over again, Tony watched him with a thoughtful expression that looked pinched around the eye and mouth. His eyes looked hurt, and Bucky internally swore at his hair-trigger temper. Taking a deep, calming breath, he let it out in a loud woosh and ran his metal hand through his hair, tugging a bit just to feel the spark of pain. 

“It’s not B.A.R.F.,” Bucky said, voice gentler. “Just a bad day. I’m sorry.” 

“No need to apologize, Buck,” Steve said earnestly. 

Natasha and Clint were on edge, standing side-by-side, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Only Sam was seemingly unaffected by Bucky’s outburst, still munching away on his sandwich, shoulders relaxed. 

“Sorry,” Bucky repeated. He felt bone-deep tired all of a sudden. “I’ll just...go.” 

Before he could move, Tony leaned towards him and held up his hands in a ‘surrender’ motion. 

“Not to push, but it looks like you’re having a rough day. We’ve all been there,” the genius started with a self-deprecating grin, “but I, personally, have found that distractions work better than wallowing. Peter’s on his way over for a game night. Why don’t you join us? He’s bringing something new. He mentioned you might like it.” 

The room returned to average dimensions, and Bucky let his tense muscles relax a fraction. If Tony was volunteering to spend more time with him, there was no way he was turning it down. He rarely saw the genius as it was, and there was hope replacing the hurt in those brilliant brown eyes. Bucky felt a small grin stretch across his face. 

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed slowly. 

“That sounds great!” Steve said, clapping his hands together. “I’ve been meaning to take Peter up on his game night invitations. We can make it a team bonding thing.” 

Tony tried to hide a grimace at Steve’s chipper self-insertion in the night’s entertainment. Bucky wanted to snap at him, but the spies were finally returning to their snacking, so he did not want to rock the boat and get everyone tense again. Tony picked up his device and stood. 

“Sounds good, Spangles. See you guys there. Common room in, uh,” Tony glanced at his watch, “thirty minutes.” 

“What’s the game called?” Clint asked.

Tony glanced over his shoulder as he walked out the kitchen door. “Jumanji.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you like it so far. The next few chapters are gonna be intense. Also, I feel it is important to note that while the latest two Jumanji movies were made more for laughs and fun than anything else, I intend to follow the darker atmosphere of the original film. I loved how terrifying it was for me as a kid. I intend to darken things up. There'll still be levity as well but in a canonical "we all gonna die horribly?!!!" sort of way. :D 
> 
> Comments feed writers. ;) <333


	2. Toto, We Ain't in Kansas Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone meets their avatars. Bucky may or may not be having a breakdown.

Peter was already setting up the game when everyone started arriving in the common room. He had a whole box of controllers at his feet and was busy syncing them all to the game system. Bucky stood at the window, hands crossed over his chest, watching. He cataloged every time someone entered the room and was peripherally aware of where they were and what they were doing, but his mind kept returning to the earlier B.A.R.F. session. A coldness had seeped into his bones. 

He had friends, a family of sorts, now and still that profound echoing helplessness battered against his chest. Bucky knew that it was typical PTSD bullshit, but he found himself hoping Tony was right, and the game would be able to distract him from how lonely the memory made him feel. Even in a room quickly filling with the people closest to him in the world, Bucky found himself drifting like an unmoored boat over troubled waters. 

“What kind of game is this Jimminy?” Rhodes asked skeptically when he tailed Tony into the room. 

Peter laughed and tossed the Colonel a controller. “Jumanji,” the boy corrected, “and I’m not sure. I was hoping we could all find out together. It looks retro, though—kind of what drew me to it. I know Mr. Barnes and Captain America like Super Mario and Zelda, so I was hoping,” he trailed off with an optimistic shrug. 

Taking that as his cue to join the group of superheroes taking their seats in the u-shaped culdesac of couches and recliners, Bucky left his window and sat beside Tony on the loveseat. Rhodey was on Tony’s other side. Once all the controllers were handed out, Peter sat down on the floor in the center of everything. 

“Now, everyone choose your avatar - the character you'll play,” Peter said, clarifying for the people who did not play any of the games the teenager would often bring with him to the compound. 

The Vision phased up through the floor beside Peter. “FRIDAY alerted me to a team game night,” he said.

There was not an ounce of reproach in his eyes or voice, but Bucky felt a pang of guilt anyway at the realization that no one had expressly invited the guy. 

“Yeah, you want to join us?” Peter asked. 

“No, thank you. However, I would be interested in observing,” the android said pleasantly. 

Bucky relaxed. For the thousandth time since arriving at the compound, he was glad that The Vision was so calm and easy-going. The game reached a screen with characters, and everyone started fighting over who should get which avatar. 

“Your pizza order has arrived at the front entrance,” FRIDAY announced. 

“Who wants to go get it?” Steve asked, toggling his player selection from one to another, looking a little lost. 

“Pizza!” Clint crowed, dropping his controller in Natasha’s lap. “I’m on it. Viz, you wanna help?” 

“Of course,” The Vision said, floating after the archer. 

Peter had already selected his own character - Shelly Oberon - and was helping Steve figure out which moving icon was his so that the man could pick his own. Bucky looked at them all and figured if he was going to be playing games for the next several hours, then he was getting the most badass sounding character. Selection made; he turned to Tony, who was also finished and typing something on his phone keyboard. 

“I was wondering if you could look at the arm sometime this week,” Bucky said softly so that no one else would overhear. 

Tony glanced up and shoved his phone in his pocket, twisting so that he was facing Bucky. 

“Sure. Whenever you want, except for Tuesday before eleven and Thursday after nine, got a few SI meetings, and Pepper will legitimately kill me if I don’t attend them,” Tony said with a smile. 

It was so easy to smile back. Bucky felt the cold in his bones fade a bit with the warmth coming off the genius. Tony opened his mouth to say something else when Peter shrieked. Bucky jerked his head around, hand already fitted around the knife in his boot. The boy was stumbling backward. On the huge TV screen behind him, the game was starting. Peter’s fingers and hands were dissolving into green light. His panicked eyes found Tony. 

“Please, Mister Stark. Hel-” the rest of his body disappeared in a flash of green and white light that was sucked into the game system. 

The room was silent as they all stared at the spot where Peter had stood a moment before. 

Someone let out a horrified keening sound, and it took a moment for Bucky to figure out it was him. Steve was on his feet, moving towards the game system, but then the blond super-soldier started disintegrating. Bucky felt something tug insistently at his fingers, and he looked down. The metal digits were turning into green particles and being pulled towards the game system. He met Tony’s wide brown eyes, and then everything went dark. 

-

He was falling. Bucky cried out, grasping for anything. He knew this flashback vividly. Any second he would be lying on his back in the snow with Hydra agents pulling at his broken and bleeding body with cruel hands. He closed his eyes to block it out. 

“Please, no,” he murmured, the sound was distorted by the rushing wind into something unintelligible. 

Something hit his face, and Bucky’s eyes snapped open. Leaves. Huge green leaves were everywhere. He was falling through trees, he realized a moment later, and then he saw the ground rushing up too quickly. He landed on his feet with a reverberating WHUMP of sound that rocked his body. 

He felt like he was standing on a chair, everything around him looking slightly shorter than it had any right to. On one side was a tranquil river, and everywhere else was thick jungle flora. Bucky breathed in deep. Everything smelled so much more than he had anticipated. Sweat, mud, plants, excrement, and animal smells of some sort. All of it hit him, and he shook his head. Even that felt odd. There was something wrong with his face. He reached out to touch his nose and could not reach it. Bucky looked down at his raised left hand and was horrified to see a black leg and a horse’s hoof staring back at him. 

“What the fuck!” he cried. The words came out as high pitched whinnies and a low snort. 

“Ow. What the hell?” a voice muttered from behind him. 

“Who the fuck are you? Where am I?” another voice said. 

Bucky turned, his four legs somehow coordinating themselves. He was breathing too quickly, ears twisting every direction as if they had a will of their own. Everything was so loud. Three people were staring around themselves and at each other. Two women and one man. Bucky itched for his knife or gun. Anything to protect himself. He was not even wearing clothes. There was an all too familiar, unwanted sense of raw exposure at this realization. 

A woman with shoulder-length red hair glared at everyone around her and backed away towards the nearby tree line. 

“The fuck is going on?” she said. The moment she spoke, her eyes widened in fear, and she touched her throat. “What’s wrong with my voice. I sound like…” she looked down and then groped at her breasts. “The hell?” 

“Who are you?” a short man asked her suspiciously. He was carrying a frankly enormous green backpack. 

“I’m Tony,” the woman said, bending down to take a look at her crotch area. She stood again and then pointed an accusing finger at the short man. “Who are you? Huh? Did you do this to me?” 

“What? I-I didn’t do anything. I’m Sam. Sam Wilson,” the man said, raising his hands placatingly. 

Bucky understood then that he must have passed out. This was some weird fucking dream, or maybe his brain had finally decided enough was enough, and he had gone insane. There was no way he was in the body of a horse listening to strangers claiming to be his friends. It was too much. 

“Sam?” an Asian woman asked uncertainly, moving forward towards the man with the backpack. “Is that really you? I-I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.” 

There was a shout from somewhere above them, and then a flash of movement as another body slammed into the redhead. An overweight man in a weird hat, khakis, and a bowtie groaned and rolled away from the woman who said she was Tony. Bucky watched everything unfold, detached and cold. None of this was real. He would wake up any second on the common room floor. Everyone would laugh when he told them about this crazy hallucination. 

“What is going on?” the new stranger demanded, staggering to his feet. 

“No idea. What’s your name?” the Asian woman asked. 

“Oh, I’m Peter, Peter Parker,” the man said, holding out his hand. He then stared at it in fascination. “Woah, dude.” 

Someone was moving in the forest, and Bucky started forward. If that man really was somehow Peter, then he was not going to let anyone hurt him. However, the moment he sprang forward, all of the eyes focused on him. Then a huge muscular man burst into the clearing, breathing hard and looking troubled. Sweat from the humidity dotted his bald head. 

“Hello, I’m not sure where we are or who you are, but I could use some help,” the man said. “I think I’m lost and I need to get to a phone.” 

The redhead woman stomped over to the new man and stared up at him. “You seem familiar. Have we met?” 

“I’m...I’m not sure. Who are you?” the man asked. 

“Tony Stark,” the woman said. 

The man collapsed forward in relief and put a large hand on her bare shoulder. “Tony. Oh, thank fuck. It’s me, Rhodey.” 

“Rhodey?” Tony asked, perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. “Huh.” 

“Guys,” Peter said. “There’s someone in the trees.” 

Bucky glanced up and instinctively tried to grab for his weapons, but all that happened was he messed up his balance and stumbled sideways, almost going down. Wobbling for a moment, he finally settled, and then he saw the pale blue eyes staring down through the thick leaves. A man. He was wearing some kind of combat looking outfit with a bomber jacket that read “seaplane.” 

“Hey, whoever you are, we know you’re there!” Tony shouted, waving at the man. “Get out here. If my math checks out, then you’re either Bucky or Natasha.” 

The man swung down expertly using leaves and vines to land lightly on his feet at the edge of the group. He grinned, and there was something sharp to the expression. 

“Natasha,” Tony said, noticing it. “Well, I guess that means Bucky is the horse.” 

Bucky nodded fiercely, tossing his mane into his face. “Yes, it’s me!” he said. Again it came out as weird horse noises instead of words. 

Sam cocked his head to one side, the floppy hat on his head threatening to fall off at the angle. “Um, did anyone else understand what he just said?” he asked. 

“What who just said? Bucky?” Rhodes asked, confused. 

“Yeah. I swear to god I heard him say, ‘yes, it’s me,’” Sam said. He winced. “I need to stop day drinking with Clint.” 

Everyone exchanged looks. Steve came to stand beside Bucky, looking him up and down as if he were a strange bug. It reminded Bucky of too many times handlers, and Hydra scientists had done the same thing. He shied away, arching his neck to hide his face. 

“It’s gonna be alright, Buck. We’ll figure this out,” Steve said. It was bizarre seeing this dark-haired woman wearing his best friend’s earnest, open expression. 

“I think I know what’s going on,” Parker said suddenly. 

“What?” Natasha asked, wary and moving her weight from one foot to the other, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. 

“We’re inside the game. Jumanji,” Peter said. He nodded excitedly and pointed to Sam’s shirt. “Look, that patch says Finbar - your avatar was Mouse Finbar. Natasha, your coat says Seaplane, and you chose Jefferson “Seaplane” McDonough. Oh, my god! This is so cool!” he exclaimed, turning around in a slow circle to take in the jungle. “We’re inside of a video game.” 

“Fuck,” Tony said. 

“Language,” Steve snapped, his fingers tightening into fists. He always got prudish when things went truly sideways on him. “We gotta figure this thing out. Peter, how do we turn it off?” 

The overweight man shrugged. “Who knows. This isn’t supposed to be possible. Maybe it’s a magic game or something. All I know for sure is that we’re all in the game avatars we chose.” 

“This is not good,” Rhodes said, staring at the nearest palm frond as if it might suddenly come alive and try to eat his face off. 

“Hey, what’s that in the water?” Peter asked curiously. “Thought I saw movement.” 

“Be careful!” Bucky tried to warn him, already starting forward. His hooves caught in the thick undergrowth and slowed him down. 

The others watched with various levels of distrust as Peter walked over to the water and squatted down. A gray face with little pink ears surfaced near him. 

“Aww, hey little fella,” Peter said, reaching out. 

“Get away from there. It’s dangerous!” Sam shouted at the same moment that the creature exploded into action. 

Bucky could only watch in horror as Peter’s strange body disappeared into the enormous maw. Everyone was running forward even as Sam yelled at them to stay back. The creature dove back into the water, and Peter was simply gone. 

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” Steve repeated over and over under his breath, staring wide-eyed at the once again smooth surface of the water. “Is he...Is he dead?” 

There was a sharp _ping_ high above them and then the sound of someone yelling. They all watched as a small humanoid shape falling through the air resolved itself into the overweight avatar Peter had been. It landed with a solid _thump_ several feet away from Bucky. He trotted over to check to see if the man was hurt. 

“P-Peter?” Tony asked uncertainly, voice thick. 

The man stood and checked himself over for injuries, nodding. “Yeah, it’s me, Mister Stark. I think I just, um, died. This must be a respawn point.” 

“A what?” Steve asked, reaching out to check for himself that Peter was unharmed. 

“Savepoint. Like, where you come back if you die. The problem is, I don’t know if there’s a life limit or what happens when we reach it. Maybe dying in here for good means dying in our real bodies too.” 

“What do you know about the game?” Natasha asked, her avatar studying Peter’s carefully. 

The heavyset man blushed furiously in a way that was so Peter it made Bucky relax for a moment. Peter scuffed his shoe against the damp earth. 

“Not much. I mean, well...nothing, really. I found it outside my door this morning and thought it was a gift from someone - like a secret admirer sort of thing,” he admitted, the blush deepening. 

Tony held up a hand. “Wait, so you’re saying that you just found this sitting outside your door, no note or explanation or anything?” 

Peter bit his lip and shook his head. 

“Then what do we do? How do we get out?” Steve asked, his voice rising. “We can’t stay here!” 

“Um, well, I mean. In all the stories like this, you just gotta play the game and win. That’s how they always get out in the comics I read,” Peter said with a small shrug. 

“What if we can’t win?” Steve asked. 

Tony turned to him, mouth set in a grim line. “Then, we die. For good. That’s my educated guess.” 

Bucky wanted to run, but without knowing anything about the game, he would risk getting lost and attacked by one of those creatures. The world tilted dangerously around him as he tried and failed to draw oxygen into his lungs. God. They were fucked. He was fucked. After fighting for so long and so hard. After everything, he had gone through. It was not fair, goddamn it. Bucky had done everything they asked of him. Everything anyone had asked of him just to scrape out an existence, and the one moment he started feeling safe, the universe had to rip everything out from under his feet. Again. 

It was not fucking fair. 

“Buck, hey, breathe for me, pal,” a woman’s voice soothed from somewhere way to close. 

Bucky jerked backward to get away from the stranger. His thoughts were muddled and hazing over with a thick fog. If only he could breathe! 

“Shh! Hey, it’s okay. It’s Steve. Everything’s gonna be alright, but you gotta breathe for me,” the woman’s voice continued speaking, but the words stopped making sense. 

Darkness crowded around the edge of his vision, and then Bucky felt himself falling sideways. It took much longer than it should have before the fall was stopped abruptly by the ground. Bucky did not feel it, but his teeth chattered in his mouth from the impact. He closed his eyes, and everything slipped away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling super vulnerable about this avatar intro scene. It was hard trying to get everyone and their avatars all lining up. Feedback welcomed! <3333 Hope you all liked it :D <333
> 
> UPDATE: Found mistakes, fixed them. I can no math. **heavy sigh**


	3. Weakness: Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and The Vision are on the case! Everyone else gets to learn more about their avatars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is fun. <333

“Um, what the fuck?” Clint grumbled around a slice of pepperoni and pineapple as he walked into the common room. “Where’s everyone?” 

The Vision followed on his heels, balancing a dozen pizza boxes in his arms. 

“Mr. Barton, Vision, there is something very wrong. I experienced an anomaly, and all of my sensors and cameras in the common room were disrupted for 14.7 seconds. There were audible sounds of distress picked up from several rooms away, and when everything came back online, Boss and everyone else was...gone,” FRIDAY reported, hesitating at the last word. “There is no indication they ever left the room. I have no protocols for this event.” 

Clint pulled a throwing dagger from its hidden sheath and twirled it in his fingers as he made a circuit of the room, looking everywhere. He finished off his slice of pizza before licking his fingers and then jumping up to inspect the vents. The Vision deposited his stack of boxes on an empty couch and closed his eyes, the gem in his forehead burning bright for a moment. When he opened his eyes, The Vision floated over to the video game console. 

“I sense great power in this device that was not present before,” the android said, gently running his hand across the top of the game system. “I believe it holds the key to what has taken place.” 

“Uh-huh,” Clint said, eyebrows raised. “Sure, magic game box. Why not. Must be a Tuesday,” he muttered. “FRIDAY, what do we know about this game?” 

There was a significant pause. 

“The only mention I could find online of the Jumanji game was posted on a website forum six years ago. Two teenagers claimed that they found the game, and when they tried to play it, they were deposited inside the game and forced to play as avatars. The forum is on a site for conspiracy theorists, so I do not know how legitimate the source is at this time,” FRIDAY reported. 

A holographic display popped up in the middle of the room, showing several posts. Clint and The Vision skimmed over them. 

“FRIDAY, see if you can find out who wrote these and where they are now. Viz, have you ever heard of anything like this? I know you spent some time with that Strange guy when Wanda chose to go train at his Hogwarts school for Jedi or whatever.” 

The android shook his head and tapped his cheek as he began floating towards the windows. “I believe I will see if they have any knowledge of this. Please, keep me informed of what you and Ms. FRIDAY discover.” 

“Sure, man,” Clint nodded. “And the same goes for you. Call soon as you find something.” 

“I will.” 

The Vision phased through the window and flew towards the Quinjet hangar. Clint sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. At least he had all the brain food he would need to figure out this clusterfuck. Collapsing on the couch, he drew one of the pizza boxes into his lap and started eating. 

“Bring up everything you find on these guys. Other things they posted, profiles, anything,” he said, pointing at the holographic pages with his slice of pie. “I'm a SHIELD spy. I basically find ghosts for a living. This shouldn’t be too hard.” 

-

Bucky groaned and tried to roll over. He felt awful, and his whole body was too heavy. It was almost impossible to move the way he was weighed down. Maybe he was getting sick. Fear raced down the super-soldier’s spine at the abrupt thought that maybe he was not tired, maybe he was being restrained. Jolting up, he pushed to his feet—all four of them. Jesus Christ, it was not a dream after all. He was a fucking horse. 

“There he is,” a woman said, her voice pitched high with relief. “Thank god. Hey, Buckaroo, how you feeling?” 

It was Tony who was speaking - or the redhead woman claiming to be Tony. Honestly, Bucky still felt a bit off-balance like the whole world was going to drop out from under him again any second. Again. The feeling got more potent, and to ground himself, he stared at the people around him and tried to catalog every detail he could see - every color, texture, and smell. It was a technique his therapist had taught him, and it often worked to anchor him in moments of dissociation. 

Tony was wearing a red shirt that showed off miles of toned midriff, and he had a strange leather harness across his top that appeared to serve no purpose. His avatar also wore a thick black belt over green short-shorts and high leather boots. At least those were practical, unlike the rest of the look. Nothing about the outfit made sense. What kind of character was Tony supposed to be anyway? It was distracting enough to pull Bucky out of his panic. 

“What are you?” Bucky asked, forgetting for a moment that he was still a horse. 

Sam’s shorter frame tensed for a moment, and then he tapped Tony on the shoulder. “Bucky wants to know what you are. I’m assuming he means your avatar history or something since it’s obvious your...well...a woman.” 

Tony smirked. “A hot as hell woman. I’d bang me. Also, I have no idea what my skills are, but I know she can do some damage. I just picked the one that sounded like she could kick some ass. Ruby Roundhouse, I mean, c’mon.” He looked down at his chest and then poked a breast. “Plus, boobs.” 

“Stark,” Steve groaned. He gave a long-suffering sigh from where he was sitting cross-legged on a large rock. His dark eyes were focused on Bucky, but his Game Face was firmly in place. “You look better, Buck. We thought you were going to … um, respawn? For a second there. I’m glad you’re back with us.”

Bucky cataloged Steve’s strange character. She was short, small, and wearing a thick black ensemble featuring a coat and loose pants. Based on the many games he had played with Clint and Peter in the past, Bucky was willing to bet his favorite biker jacket that Steve’s class was a thief. He looked small, and those soft black boots were obviously designed for stealth. 

“We should check our pockets. See if there are any clues,” Bucky said. Sam translated for him, and Peter nodded vigorously. 

“That’s a great idea! Um, we should also probably move. Most game sequences have proximity-based triggers, so if we just stand around, either nothing will happen, or the game will throw something at us to get us moving,” Peter said, glancing around nervously. 

A quick check of everyone’s gear showed that Sam’s huge bag was filled with everything except the kitchen sink. Steve even pulled out a fire extinguisher at one point. Bucky watched everyone and tried not to feel bothered by the fact that he was the only one naked. Thankfully, no one else brought it up, but it still left him feeling vulnerable. Other than a few weapons and a blank map that only Peter could read, everyone else had nothing on them that might give them some idea of what to expect from the game. 

Peter rounded everyone up and pointed left. “That’s north, and I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to head that way,” he said, squinting at the map that looked blank to Bucky. 

With no reason to argue, everyone followed him out of the forest. The trees fell away and led into a lush landscape of rolling hills. Tall mountains stretched out behind them, and a thick white cloud layer rolled across the sky. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Natasha remarked, taking in everything at once. “Peter, do you think the game transported us to a specific place, or has our consciousness been integrated into the game somehow? Maybe this is all nothing more than neurons firing - or the closest approximation you can get without a physical brain?” 

It was easy to forget sometimes that the Black Widow was more than a spy who could put on any skin. She was incredibly intelligent - had to be to fit into specific roles. Bucky knew for a fact that Natasha could talk up a physicist for hours without losing the plot. His horse ears flicked forward as if there was a chance he might miss Peter’s response. 

“I’m, uh, not really sure,” Peter admitted, removing his hat to wipe the sweat off his forehead before replacing it. “My assumption is a magical realm. Maybe a little pocket universe. We’re most probably not in the actual physical game. Electronics don’t work like that,” he admitted before tacking on wryly, “although with magic you never know. However, if we were in the game system, then turning it off without saving first would kill us, and that seems like a major design flaw sooo,” he drew out the word and then frowned. “Well, I think we’re probably in a magical realm that is governed by video game rules for whatever reason.” He shrugged his thick shoulders. 

Natasha nodded and stooped down to pull a clump of grass as she walked, studying it carefully. “Makes sense. I don’t see any pixelation.” 

“We could also be stuck in a shared hallucination, our bodies unconscious,” Rhodes said. “I saw a movie like that once.” 

“Not likely, platypus,” Tony said with a shake of his head. “Our bodies were dissolving - for lack of a better word - before we showed up here. That means our actual lives are dependent on whatever takes place here. Wherever here is.” 

They grew silent at this somber news. Bucky tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was trapped against his will. Again. This whole game was like repeating Hydra’s worst hits. He refused to think about what other painful memories would be stirred up by whatever lay before them. 

“So, where we headed, Queens?” Steve asked, trying to lighten his tone. Bucky noticed his shoulders were tense. Game Face still in play. 

Peter unfolded the map and looked it over. He started walking backward and pointed behind them. “If that’s where we just came from then this,” he tapped the map, “should be up this hill. It’s called ‘The Mighty Roar.’” 

Not wanting to risk their safety, Bucky galloped past the group and up the lush rise. Nothing looked different. He turned in a full circle and huffed irritably. Nothing popped out of the ground or fell out of the sky. 

“Buck! Wait up,” Steve yelled from half-way up the incline. 

Rhodes quickly passed the others, his speed almost on par with that of a super-soldier. No doubt, part of the avatars skill set. He stopped next to Bucky and glanced around, running a hand over his bald head. 

“Huh. I don’t see anything, Peter?” Rhodes said just as the others joined them. 

Sam looked worse for wear, leaning over with his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. Bucky trotted over to the man’s side and circled him, concerned. If they were going to be walking around a jungle for the foreseeable future, maybe he should offer the man a ride. After all, if they got separated, no one else would be able to understand Bucky. 

“Hop on,” Bucky offered. 

Sam froze and then looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Uhhh,” he hesitated. 

“Hop. On,” Bucky pressed, tossing his head. 

“Everything alright over there, Bird Brain?” Tony asked, looking nervously between Sam’s avatar and Bucky. 

“Yeah, he just suggested I, um, ride him,” Sam said, clearly trying his best to make it not sound like a euphemism. 

Tony smirked. “Hey, if you’re giving out offers, Buckster,” he said, throwing his arms out in a ‘take me’ gesture. 

Bucky snorted. 

Sam finally straightened, his breathing back under control, and he gave Bucky a thankful glance. “I do appreciate it, but one, that’d be just too weird, and two, I do not think there’s any way for me to get up there. I’m like two feet tall.” 

Bucky nodded but stayed close to Sam just in case they had to run again. He’d drag the man along by his shirt collar if necessary. 

“Did anyone else happen to get a look at their skill set?” Peter asked. “I know my guy, Shelly Oberon, was a cartographer, archaeology, and paleontology, so I’m obviously the brains guy. I think my weakness was...uh…” he tapped his chin, thinking for a moment. “Endurance. Fudge, that’s gonna suck.” 

“All I remember is that my name was Smolder Bravestone,” Rhodes volunteered. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Honestly, this guy has enormous pecs. I mean, look at these things,” he made a fist and tapped the left side of his chest. 

There was a musical sound, and then a box appeared in the sky to his left, listing strengths and weaknesses. Bucky arched his neck and pushed the same area on himself. Another box dinged to life above him. Everyone else started pressing their chests and reading over the lists being projected in the air. 

“Wait, strength is my weakness. What the fuck, man?” Sam asked incredulously. 

“Language,” Steve muttered. He was scowling at his own skillset in disapproval. “Great. Not only am I an honorless thief, but pollen is my weakness. Just when I thought I’d never have to suffer through allergies again.” 

“Hey, at least you’ve got something useful. I mean, are any of you seeing this? I mean, really!” Sam said, his voice rising. “Cake. How is cake a weakness?”

Peter was reading everyone’s skill charts, and he stopped dead when he saw Bucky’s. “Oh, my god! That is so cool!” 

Steve glanced over and up at the box to Bucky’s left and read down the list slowly. “Speed, mount, kicks, wings...huh, how about that. Weakness, neighing.” 

“I don’t see any wings,” Sam pointed out. 

“They probably come out when they’re needed. Some skills are like that,” Peter said with a sage nod. 

“So, where the hell is this Mighty Roar we’re supposed to be seeing?” Tony asked, jogging further up the hill. 

Drums began playing, the sound loud and thick, reverberating through Bucky’s skull. 

“Nevermind,” the redhead said sheepishly. 

Something whistled through the air, and Bucky glanced up just in time to see a missile shoot past their heads, and then it exploded into the ground a couple of hundred yards away, the air ringing. Bucky smelled the approach of motor oil and dirty leather. 

“Something’s coming,” he warned Sam. 

The sound of vehicles purred to life in the direction the missile came from, and then a dozen old model motorcycles crested the hill behind them, riding full speed ahead. 

“Fuck! Run!” Rhodes shouted as another missile flew through their midst and exploded the ground nearby. 

No one had to be told twice. They scrambled down the hill heading towards another line of trees where they might be able to lose the vehicles in the thick underbrush. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback me. :D <333 XD I hope you're enjoying it!
> 
> UPDATE: Fixed some typos.


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